


just a couple of dudes being guys being gay

by Airy (ItsAiryBro)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Attempt at Humor, BoKuroo Week, BoKuroo Week 2k19, Boys In Love, M/M, Some angst, Various AUs, collection of ficlets, sappy af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2019-12-30 12:18:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18315134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAiryBro/pseuds/Airy
Summary: A collection of ficlets for BoKuroo week 2k19. Each day is its own chapter, Summary inside.Day 1 (supernatural)Fantasy AU- Top 10 words spoken before calamity struck # 5: “Summonings need to be precisely executed.” - Kuroo Tetsurou, Special Potions Professor.Day 2 (Galaxies/Universe)Canonverse- A blanket, the stars, some hot cocoa, and you (+ Neil deGrasse Tyson)Day 3 (Intimacy)Adult AU- "Hey Sad stranger, want to dance?"Day 4 (Partners in crime)Fantasy AU- What's a few lies in the grand scheme of things?Day 5 (Tattoos)Canon Future- Long drives late at night with the person you yearn for probably aren't too good for your health.Day 7( The ways you say "I love you")Canon Future- Bokuto is an affectionate creature and has many, many ways in which he says "I love you".





	1. Note- Check expiry dates on potion ingredients (Day 1: Supernatural)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Top 10 lines spoken before calamity struck, # 5: “Summonings need to be precisely executed.”_   
>  _\- Kuroo Tetsurou, Special Potions Professor._
> 
>  
> 
>  **Tags:** Fantasy AU, Accidental demon summoning, Demon! Bokuto, Professor! Kuroo  
>  **Mood music, if you will:** Alex Aiono, Trinidad Cardona- Does it feel like falling

“So, a pinch of rock salt--”

“What do you mean a  _ pinch? _ ” Kuroo asked, looking at his notes dubiously. “That’s not what the textbook says. It says 0.50 grams of Rock salt. A ‘pinch’ is not 0.50 grams. Potions are science, not stew. Follow the notes and don’t improvise.” 

Lev rolled his eyes but immediately bowed in apology when Kuroo gave him an unimpressed look. “Yes, sensei, I’m sorry.”

“Go measure out the salt. Wait, did you make approximations on all the other ingredients as well?”

“Only maybe a couple…” Lev looked him with a guilty shine in his eyes.

“Go and measure everything again. Honestly Lev, if you’re really serious about this you have to be careful or you’re going to explode something and lose your beginners license altogether.”

Kuroo loved his job as a professor, and he didn’t mind having one on one tutoring lessons with the pupils who needed them, but he did wish they took him seriously when he said potions were a science. He’d ad-libbed enough potions and lost enough good shirts to know what the hell he was talking about, so when his students didn’t listen to him about accurate measurements, it really annoyed him.

Especially since most magic could be improvised, many students didn’t like the stifling constraints of potion making. A sane person would wonder why they’d sign onto to his class in the first place then, but who knew what the hell students thought? He certainly didn’t know what he was thinking when he was their age.

He wasn’t going to turn them away, at any rate. Students meant regular classes which meant regular funding for his lab. 

That really made up for everything.

Lev came back with several weighing dishes carefully floating around his head. “All re-measured, sensei.”

“Okay, good. Thank you Lev.” 

Lev smiled and directed the dishes to pour the ingredients into the small cauldron cheerfully bubbling away on the firepit. The school had wanted him to have a regular stove, but Kuroo had put his foot down-- magic released from burning different kinds of wood made for more robust potions. For this spell, he’d chosen some nice ebony wood-- ebony smoke increased the longevity and purity of potions. As he added each component, the water changed colours from mildly milky to opaque white to a soft pink. 

“Okay, now that the dry ingredients have been mixed in, let’s add the rest. Can you list them for me, please?”

“Alright. 5 ml honey, 10 ml aged sap of the Suntree, 3 ml essence of moonflower. 20 ml sheep blood, and 1 ml liquefied bloodstone.”

Kuroo nodded. “Great! Okay, go ahead and add them in one by one. Wait for each ingredient to mix before adding the next.”

Lev nodded, and Kuroo kept careful watch on the cauldron. 

“When using blood or any blood derivatives in a potion, you always have to make sure you add the blood at the end. We don’t use it for anything but summoning potions, so we have to be very careful about when you add it and how much of it you add so you summon what you meant to. Summonings need to be precisely executed.”

As Kuroo spoke, he watched Lev slowly stir in each ingredient. The potion turned golden and shimmery, just like it was supposed to. When Lev finally added the bloodstone though, it became immediately apparent that something was amiss.

Instead of staying a deep molten gold, the potion swirled ruby.

The minute Kuroo recognized what was going on, his eyes widened. “Oh fuck-- Lev, get back!” he yelled, hauling Lev by his arm to the other side of the room and ducking behind a countertop.

Lev’s confused squawking was cut off by a loud, insufferable screeching noise like the wail of a mandrake, and Kuroo pushed Lev down into the ground while he peered over the counter to see what was going on.

A portal was opening in the smoke, which was par for the course for potions meant to summon things.

What _wasn’t_ though, was the sheer size of the portal, and the sheer number of runes hovering in it.

They’d accidentally summoned something powerful enough to need a binding contract to come through the portal. And with that came the sickening realization that the potion was made in Kuroo’s lab, with Kuroo’s ingredients and utensils, with a healthy heaping of Kuroo’s will for it to turn out well mixed into it-- whatever was coming out was going to be contractually bound to him. 

Kuroo ducked back under the table when the runes dissolved and a wave of energy exploded across the lab, sending vials and bottles crashing onto the floor and shattering the windows, the wailing getting louder and louder till it cut off abruptly, leaving his ears ringing, and his wrist burning hot with a binding rune wrapped around it.

“Oh, the human world has changed a lot. Sure smells nice at least!”

Kuroo motioned to Lev to keep quiet while he peeked out from behind the table. 

A man with bat-like wings, two curving horns, and black, claw-tipped hands was rummaging in the mess left behind, holding things up and sniffing at them.

“Oh no,” Kuroo muttered.

They’d summoned a _demon._

A very hot demon, his subconscious murmured, giving the demon a quick once over. Kuroo cleared his throat, and the demon whipped around to face him, inhuman golden eyes wide, pupils thin black slits. Then his pupils dilated to big black circles, and a wide grin filled with pointy fangs split his face.

“Hello, I’m assuming you’re the one that summoned me? You must be-- I see our contract’s on your wrist. It’s on my wrist too, see?” He held out his wrist where, sure enough, there was a matching rune wrapped around his wrist like an intricate tattoo. “How did you figure it out? I made them remove my summoning spell from human memories.” The demon frowned pensively at something before shrugging and smiling again. “But you seem good hearted so I guess it’s okay!” Then he caught sight of something and pounced on it, almost too quick for Kuroo to register his movement. Then he stood up straight and held a small bottle up triumphantly. “Oh gosh, I was right! You did figure out my contract!”

“Um.”

“Yeah, this bloodstone is precisely 15 days past potency! This is the specific ingredient needed to bind me to your bidding, along with the smoke of burning ebony wood. How did you figure it out? You must have really wanted me if you went through so much trouble! I’ll definitely help you!”

“Uhh.” Kuroo grimaced. He was going to be in so much trouble. Firstly for keeping expired ingredients, which technically was his assistant’s fault, but he’d take the blame because he should have checked expiration dates for all the components each time before using them. Secondly for summoning a _whole entire sentient being,_ a **_demon,_** from god knows _which_ dimension. At least the demon wasn’t rampaging and trying to kill anyone, and seemed like the friendly sort, so maybe they could figure out a way to send him back peacefully and without fuss. “We didn’t. This was an accident.”

“What?” the demon yelped, and everything about him seemed to droop all of a sudden, even his silver and black hair that was spiked in an absurd style. “You didn’t want to summon me?”

Kuroo instantly felt a little bad for him. Oh no. “We’re sorry. But we can’t let you stay here, we’re not supposed to summon creatures that have free will.”

“But you made me come here! And now that I’m here, I don’t wanna go home, it’s so  _ boring _ back there!” he whined, and Kuroo saw his foot twitch, almost like he wanted to stomp it. “I can do whatever you want me to, I’m very strong, and I’m good at magic, though Akaashi says I shouldn’t use my magic unless it’s an emergency.” He held his arms out and did a 360 turn, showing himself off with a  playful grin. “And I come with the bonus of being very nice to look at.” 

Kuroo would have said something about his shapely behind indeed being very nice to look at if he didn’t have a student in the room with him.

“Um, Kuroo-sensei,” Lev whispered, peeking from behind Kuroo, “what are we going to do? Do you think we’ll get in trouble with the dean?”

“I can help you stay out of trouble with whatever a dean is!” The demon offered, smile bright and hopeful. 

“I really doubt you can.” Kuroo gave him a wry smile in return. “And don't worry Lev, you'll be fine. This was my fault, so the most they’ll do is investigate you when we file the incident report for the occupational safety board.”

“Are you going to be punished for summoning me?” the demon asked, wide-eyed. “They can't do that! I haven't even done anything bad!”

“Do you plan to?” Kuroo asked, already trying to figure out how to talk him out of it.

The demon shook his head. “Oh, nope! As long as I am bound to you my will is kind of bound to your will? Like I can only do things as much as your will lets me. If your will is to make me do bad things then I’ll do them. But I’d rather you don’t.” His expression grew somber. “I don’t like being used to hurt people.”

“Did someone make you do that, before?” Lev asked before Kuroo could form the words. 

“Yeah. The last person who summoned me made me kill a lot of people. I  _ am _ very strong, I’m not just saying that, you know.”

Kuroo winced at that bit of information. “Okay, I’m definitely not going to make you hurt anyone, that’s for sure. You said you made them remove your contract spell from human memory, is that why?”

The demon nodded, golden stare unyielding. “But I’m glad you summoned me! I’ve missed the human world. Human food is really tasty.” 

“I don’t know any other kind of food, but yeah human food is pretty tasty I guess. Still, I don’t think we can let you stay. We have to figure out a way to get you back where you came from before anyone finds out.”

The demon fidgeted, pinching at the rune around his wrist. “Can you keep anyone from finding out for one hundred and eighty days?” 

“One eighty days!? Why?” 

“I just realized, the contract says I’ve been summoned for one eighty days-- I can’t leave before then.”

Kuroo sighed and pressed both hands to his face. “I guess there’s no helping it then-- I’m going to have to inform the proper authorities.” The demon nodded, looking dejected. Kuroo ignored the twinge of sympathy he felt, and turned to pick up the phone and call in the incident. He was surprised no one had come to investigate already. Then he realised something and turned back. “Wait, you never told me who you are.”

The demon puffed up, full of pride as a jabbed at his chest with a thumb. “I’m Bokuto, fifth in line to the throne of Hell!”

“You’re a prince of Hell?” Lev squawked, and all the colour drained from Kuroo’s face as the Demon nodded excitedly and manifested his regalia, a blood-red cape embroidered with the Demon King's crest and a fragmented, spiky golden halo that hovered an inch above his hair. 

“Pretty neat huh?” The demon, the fifth in line to the throne of literal Hell, a son of the terrifying Demon King, a creature that was self-admittedly capable of mass murder and whatever else Princes of Hell were capable of, looked at Kuroo with an eager, bashful smile, like how a puppy would smile at his master, and Kuroo thought, 

Oh no.

“Very neat,” he agreed, and Bokuto grinned, bright like the sun. 

Kuroo’s heart squeezed. 

_ Oh no. _


	2. In your eyes, the Milky Way (Day 2: Galaxies/Universe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A blanket, the stars, some hot cocoa, and you (+ Neil deGrasse Tyson)_
> 
> **Tags:** Canonverse, sappy first dates, nighttime picnics, Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey  
>  **Mood music, if you will:** Alina Baraz, Khalid- Floating

Bokuto spread the blanket on the grass and plopped down on it, already digging in his backpack for the snacks they’d packed. Next to him, Kuroo took his laptop out from his own backpack and pulled up the show they were going to watch. Once the media player was opened, he paused it and pulled out a smaller, fluffier blanket, and threw it over both their shoulders.

Bokuto fished out the thermos and paper cups, thankful that there weren’t any bright lights nearby to give away his blush. Even if they’d gone camping and shared blankets many times before, this was their first time after Bokuto had confessed to Kuroo that he liked him as more than a friend. 

And Kuroo had agreed to go on a date with him, a date that they were on  _ right now. _

And that fact alone made Bokuto hyper-aware of everything that was happening.

“This is so cheesy,” he said, laughing softly and pouring out the hot chocolate into the cups. “How can you think of such cheesy date ideas?”

“It’s a talent.” Kuroo grinned, his teeth bright in the light coming from the laptop screen. “I aim to always be memorable. And I bet you’ll never forget this date now, huh? Watching a documentary about space on a night time picnic under the stars.”

“You got that right. Here.” Bokuto handed him the cup. “Careful, it’s pretty hot.”

Kuroo took it from him, and the tips of their fingers brushed together. Bokuto was proud for not flinching.

“Are you ready? Do I start now?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Kuroo pressed play and put the laptop down a small distance away, and both of them turned their attention to the screen.

It started off with a visual of waves crashing against a rocky outcropping, and a man’s deep voice speaking in even tones.

_ “The cosmos is all there is, or ever was, or ever will be.” _

Bokuto turned slightly so he could see Kuroo out of the corner of his eye. He was sitting hunched over, his hot chocolate cupped in both his hands. A soft, eager smile played on his lips as he quietly mouthed the words being spoken onscreen.

Bokuto thought he’d done good, agreeing to see Kuroo’s favourite science documentary with him.

He focused on the program again, where a black man (an astrophysicist called Neil deGrasse Tyson, Kuroo had explained) was talking about journeying through space and time to explore the mysteries of the universe. The graphics and animation were really good, but Bokuto couldn’t help but think the host was laying it on a little thick.

“The host is kinda cheesy, huh?” he blurted, before realizing that maybe he shouldn’t be poking fun at something Kuroo was so excited about. He bit his tongue, waiting for a snappy comeback.

But Kuroo only laughed. “I guess, but it’s kinda charming, yeah? Now shh, the opening is starting so focus.”

Bokuto turned back obediently, wondering what could be so special about an opening to a documentary series, but as the soft opening notes played, he understood. As he watched the breathtaking visuals seamlessly blend into each other, galaxies and dandelions and supernovae, a sense of awe and wonder tingled through his skin, raising goosebumps almost in sync with the way the music crescendoed and quieted.

“Always gives me chills,” Kuroo said softly, and when Bokuto turned to look at him, his skin prickled with a different kind of awe and wonder. Kuroo looked so peaceful, so…  _ beautiful. _

“Wow,” he whispered to himself.

“It’s my favourite part of the show.” Kuroo shot him a quick smile, and Bokuto immediately looked away, trying to pretend like he hadn’t been staring at Kuroo like an idiot. 

“Oh, y-yeah, I can see why.”

They sipped at their drinks slowly, and watched as the host took them through the different planets in their solar system. Bokuto tried his best to focus because the content was fascinating, and he wanted to remember things so he could talk about them with Kuroo later to show he really was paying attention and he really liked what Kuroo had shared with him, but he kept getting distracted by how close they were sitting, how close their shoulders were to touching under the shared blanket.

“The solar system is pretty hardcore, huh,” he mumbled, as the host said something about a giant storm on the surface of Jupiter.

“Absolutely,” Kuroo said, keeping his voice low as well, like they’d established an unspoken agreement about not speaking too loud. “It’d be neat if the Earth had rings like Saturn too.”

“Yeah then we’d be able to see them in the sky, that’d be pretty awesome,” Bokuto nodded, putting his empty paper cup away before he could begin to fidget with it.

They watched in silence again, as the host moved on to the next planet.

Bokuto tried his best to keep quiet but the chuckle spilled from his mouth anyway. “Uranus.”

Kuroo snorted.  _ “Uranus.” _

That set Bokuto off, which in turn set Kuroo off, and they had to pause the show for a few moments to stop chortling.

“We’re such imbeciles,” said Kuroo, coughing a little as his laughter died down.

“I mean the opportunity was  _ right there." _ Bokuto giggled.

Kuroo elbowed him slightly but they settled down after, and Bokuto tried his best to keep his eyes from wandering over to Kuroo’s face. 

“Do you think aliens exist?” Bokuto whispered, leaning closer to Kuroo. The screen displayed an image of the Milky Way galaxy seen in infrared, and it looked a lot like green glitter spilled carelessly on black velvet, each little speck a star. It was stunning, and it was pretty humbling to think that this picture that fit on the laptop screen was the galaxy in which they lived, so vast and distant and unexplored.

“I definitely think they do,” Kuroo answered, leaning in a little closer. Their shoulders brushed, and Bokuto almost flinched away, but he stayed still, and Kuroo pushed closer into him till their shoulders were pressed together, purposefully and with no chance for either of them to dismiss it as an accident.

Bokuto felt warmth begin to build on the back of his neck.

“What do you think they’d be like?”

“I can’t even begin to guess. The animals on  _ Earth _ are different enough as is is, and we’re all on the same planet.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Do you believe in the multiverse, too, like multiple dimensions?”

Kuroo remained silent for a bit. “I mean, there’s no reason  _ not _ to believe it, right?”

“Do you think,” Bokuto said quietly, “that we’d meet in another universe too?”

“I think so,” he replied, slowly, carefully. “A multiverse means there’s endless possibilities right? So I’m sure there are a ton of other universes where I meet you. Maybe we even play on the same team together. Maybe we’re childhood friends in one of them.” He paused. “Why are you asking?”

Bokuto felt the back of his neck flare hotter. “I just… thought it was nice that I got to meet you in this universe, and that it’d be nice if the other mes could meet you too, in whatever universe they’re in.”

Kuroo blinked at him in surprise before a teasing smile took over his lips. “Aw, Bo. Who’s the cheesy one now?”

“Shut up,” Bokuto playfully nudged him with his shoulder and Kuroo chuckled, pushing back. Since they’d missed what the host was saying, Kuroo skipped back a little, and this time, they both stayed quiet.

_ "There comes a time in our lives when we first realize we're not the center of the universe, that we belong to something much greater than ourselves. It's part of growing up.” _

Bokuto had never been the arrogant sort, so he’d never really thought that he was more important than everyone else, but he supposed he understood what the host meant. He’d always been ambitious, been the kind to run and leap and try to grab whatever he wanted, always believed that if he wanted it and worked for it hard enough he’d get it. 

Then his school had been unceremoniously thrashed by Nekoma at a practice match, all his spikes blocked easily by one boy with ridiculous hair and calculating eyes and a smile that was always smug. 

Bokuto always considered the realization of his weakness and his flaws one of the defining moments of his volleyball career. He’d had a lot before, and had a lot since, but this one in particular stood out to him, because it was the first time he’d met Kuroo, the first time they’d shaken hands, and Bokuto had asked if he could practice with him.

It was how they first became friends.

“Hey.” Kuroo tapped his shoulders, snapping him out of his rambling, sappy thoughts. “Do you want to get more comfortable?”

Bokuto blinked. “Huh?”

“Lay down, like this.” Kuroo laid down on his front and propped his chin on one hand while holding up the blanket with the other. “Come on, it’ll be nice.”

Bokuto flushed red with embarrassment even as he smiled like a dumbass. He settled down on his stomach as well, close enough that the entirety of their sides were touching. Kuroo draped the blanket over his shoulders and ruffled his hair gently before pulling back and focusing on the show again.

He let Bokuto ask him questions in the middle and explained them, let Bokuto nuzzle his shoulder, and let Bokuto hook their feet together.

Bokuto thought he was going to burst.

They watched in silence as the host talked about the time when people still thought the earth was the center of the universe. The animation was pretty, and Bokuto watched, enraptured.

_ “He experienced a sickening moment of fear, as if the bottom of everything was falling away beneath his feet. _

_ But he summoned up his courage.” _

He didn’t realize he was too close to the screen till Kuroo pulled him back. “Hey, stop trying to crawl into my laptop.”

“Oh, sorry.” Bokuto winced and leaned back to his position against Kuroo. 

“It’s okay. I take it you really like the show, then.”

“Oh yeah, it’s really cool. It’s easy to understand, and I like the visuals.”

“Good, then next date, we can watch some more.”

“Next date?” Bokuto asked, hoping he sounded casual and not too hopeful, though he was afraid he’d failed at that.

“Of course. You wanted to go on more dates, right? Or was this a one time type of thing?”

“No, I definitely want to go on more dates with you!” 

“Alright, that’s settled then.”

Bokuto grinned and Kuroo grinned back at him, face glowing in the light from the laptop. Bokuto slowly tilted his head so he could lean a little on Kuroo, and Kuroo pushed his head down to his shoulder and held him there, long fingers gently combing out his hair as they watched the story of how the man was kicked out of his community, imprisoned and eventually killed for opposing the views of the church.

“Aw, oh no,” Bokuto murmured, bumping his head into Kuroo’s.

“Yeah, stuff like that happened all the time.”

Bokuto nodded and let Kuroo keep petting his hair.

“What comes up next is pretty cool though, watch.”

Bokuto watched, once again entranced as the host explained they were going to compress known history to fit a calendar year. They snickered as he put on Matrix type sunglasses glasses to see the big bang, and Kuroo ooh-ed at how creatively and cleverly it had been conceptualized. 

Bokuto smiled at his exuberance, forgoing watching the show to watch Kuroo instead. He immediately flicked his eyes back before Kuroo could notice, though, and he treated it like a game till Kuroo told him he was being distracting.

It made Bokuto giddy to know  _ he _ was being distracting to _ Kuroo _ of all people, but he stayed quiet and resumed paying attention to the show. 

_ “You, me, everyone. We are made of star stuff.” _

“Hey, isn't that on a poster in your room?”

“I’m surprised you remember.”

“I’m observant.”

“Sure you are.”

“Kurooo!”

“I’m teasing, ya big baby.”

As the host got to the latter half of the year, Bokuto paid closer attention, and jabbed at the screen when the host said life on Earth started on September 21st of the cosmic calendar. 

“September 21! That’s like, a day after my birthday! That's so cool! Does something cool happen around your birthday, Kuroo?”

“Well, I was born,” said Kuroo, turning a smarmy grin on him. Bokuto laughed and shoved at him, and Kuroo shoved him back. They kept playfully shoving at each other, till Kuroo pushed him down and flopped over him.

“I can’t fuckin’ see, bro,” he mumbled, trying not to make a big deal of Kuroo’s chest pressing on his shoulders.

“I’ll let you up if you stop shoving at me.”

Bokuto laughed. “Deal.”

The host talked about the rise and fall of the dinosaurs, and what would have happened if an asteroid never wiped them out. Kuroo mumbled something about how there still wasn’t solid proof about what happened to the dinosaurs. Bokuto suppressed the urge to call him a nerd.

_ “This is a good example of the extreme contingency, the chance nature, of existence.” _

Bokuto considered that, considered how there were so many,  _ many _ ways his life could have turned out. Maybe if things had been different, they’d only have met in college, or maybe they’d have met in middle school. Perhaps they might never have met at all.

The thought sent a little pang of sadness through his heart, and he quickly shook it off, choosing not to think about it. 

They watched in silence as they learned about how far humanity had come, how long it took them to get there, but how new and almost irrelevant they were in the scale of the universe itself. As the scene cut out from the cosmic calendar to the host’s recollections about the scientist who had inspired him, Bokuto turned to look at Kuroo again. 

He had that intense, focused look on his face that Bokuto loved, eyes so sharp Bokuto could practically see him dismantle and rearrange information to find solutions to any problem he was presented with. It reminded him that no matter what goofy shenanigans they got into, or how much Kuroo loved quoting vines at him, or making custom shitposts at 3 am, he was smart as hell, and driven, and amazing and kind and destined for great things--

\--and Bokuto was  _ so lucky _ that he'd agreed to give him a chance to show Kuroo how much he meant to him, how much he adored him.

“Hey, Kuroo” he murmured, licking his lips. 

Kuroo flicked his gaze to him, the sharpness softening into a look of inquiry. Bokuto leaned forward, hoping the thundering of his heart wasn’t too loud as he moved closer and closer, till he could feel the heat wafting off Kuroo’s skin and smell his warm cinnamon scent, till their lips brushed together soft and trembling but secure in the knowledge that they were both in this together. They pulled back slowly, documentary forgotten, looking into each other's eyes with surprised but wondering expressions, and then Kuroo grinned and him and pulled him into another gentle kiss, the stars shining brightly above them, free and bold in the cloudless sapphire sky.

_ “Our journey is just beginning.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just very self-indulgent and sappy as hell. I'm so pleased with how it turned out because I love Cosmos so much.


	3. Neon Halo (Day 3: Intimacy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Hello sad stranger, want to dance?”_
> 
> **Tags:** Adult AU, clubs, alcohol, dancing, suggestive themes  
>  **Mood music, if you will:** Studio Killers- Friday night gurus, Who is in your heart now (but basically just the Studio Killers album, and especially True colours toward the end of the fic.)

The beat pulses in his chest and Kuroo sighs, downing his shot of whiskey and pressing a shaking hand to his erratic heart.

There’s too much going on, too much noise and too much light, too many people and too many smells. It’s probably not the best place to try and calm down, or even get drunk in peace. But he didn’t want to drink alone at his apartment, and he didn’t want to bother any of his friends, so he’d decided to come to a club on a whim, even though he’s not the type that enjoys this kind of scene.

And what the hell was up with the smoke anyway.

But he’s here, and slowly working his way through shots of whiskey, even if it feels like his head is going to split open and spill brain matter all over the sticky floor at any moment.

“Hello sad stranger, want to dance?”

Kuroo ignores the words, mostly because he thinks they were meant for someone else, but there’s a light tap on his shoulder and he turns to see an attractive, muscular man with a wide, blinding smile, bending a little to be on eye level with him.

“Uh,” he says, frowning, trying to remember if he knew him from anywhere. He’s pretty sure he’s never seen this man before in his life, mostly because there’s no way Kuroo would forget someone with _golden_  eyes and silver streaked hair.

Unless the man was wearing contacts, or dyes, in which case, well.

“Want to dance?” The stranger asks, leaning against the bar with one hand, the other propped on his hip. He’s wearing a cropped tank top, and the movement puts his arms on full display. Kuroo wonders if it's premeditated, or just chance.

“No,” Kuroo says, and turns back to his empty shot glass.

“Want to talk?” The stranger asks, and this time when Kuroo turns to him his wide grin is replaced by a more tentative one.

Kuroo gives him a flat look. “What do you think?”

The man blinks, and the smile wipes out completely to be replaced by a considering look. “I think even if you don’t want to, you should.”

“That so.” Kuroo chuckles mirthlessly and raises his glass to catch the bartender’s eye. It takes a bit, but the bartender nods at him and starts preparing another shot.

When his shot arrives, the stranger asks for a Blue Hawaiian, and Kuroo gets a little pissed, and creeped out.

“Yo, what is your problem?”

The stranger blinks at him again, owlish, like he didn’t know what he was doing. “I’m just getting a drink and keeping you company.”

“Well, I didn’t ask for your company, so please leave.” He downs his shot, and it burns all the way past his throat. “And I’m not into guys.”

The man squints at him like he’d said something offensive. “Jeez, bro, I wasn’t trying to pick you up. I just thought you looked like you needed to not be alone.”

Now it’s Kuroo’s turn to blink. “I’m not alone,” he says, indicating to the mass of people crowded around them, by the bar and on the dance floor.

“You know what I mean though.” His drink arrives and he picks it up with a quick word of thanks to the bartender. Kuroo’s eyes drift down to the bright blue drink with the paper umbrella and a thin neon glowstick. It looks nice. Maybe he'd get one of those next.

“So tell me, what’s got you looking like the world is ending?” The man asks, lowering his volume but shifting right into Kuroo’s personal bubble to make up for it. Kuroo rolls his eyes. At this point he’d have stood up and left if it were any other person, but something about this man is warm and sincere, and Kuroo is an excellent judge of character, even when borderline drunk.

So he stays, and speaks. He doesn’t bother to raise his voice, and doesn’t care that he’s probably not going to be heard over the pumping electronic beat.

“Didn’t get into any of the grad programs I applied for.” The stranger leans even closer, till his ear is a few scant centimeters away from Kuroo’s cheek. Kuroo can feel his hair tickle his temples, can smell the heat rising off him carrying the scent of sweat mixed with citrusy cologne. He finds he doesn’t mind it. “And now I don’t know what to do anymore. I didn’t plan for this to happen. I didn’t even think it was a possibility.”

The man pulls back, taking his heat and orange-lemon scent with him. “Is that all?”

Kuroo’s eyebrows shoot up.

“I mean! I get it’s a big deal, but that’s really-- Is that all? You didn’t get into grad school this term-- just apply again for next year!”

“It’s not that simple,” Kuroo hisses, feeling legitimately angry. “You don’t know how expensive it is to apply-- the exam fees, the application fees. You have no idea how much a lost year can set me back. You have no idea what my circumstances are, so don’t just come waltzing in here thinking like it’s so fucking easy to fix, okay?”

The man throws his head back and laughs, and it’s loud and annoying even in the din of the club. “Bro. Bro. I may not know your circumstances, but I do know if you plan to go to Grad school, it means you’re fucking smart. It’s expensive, yeah, but you’re a smart boy and you’ll figure it out. Don’t worry so much about it, kay? God, the way you carried on, I thought you just found out you have stage 3 cancer or something.”

Kuroo turns away. “You’re a jackass. I’m done with this conversation.”

“It’s okay to mope, man, but don’t be actin’ like it’s the end of the road. Because it’s not. You say you don’t know what to do anymore, well let me tell you, what you do now is suck it up and get a temp job and apply again for the next cycle. Like it’s literally that simple.”

“I said I was _done,_ dude,” Kuroo snaps, raising his hand to flag the bartender again.

The stranger grabs his wrist and presses it down on the bar. The cold granite makes Kuroo flinch, and he debates just punching the guy in the face, but the stranger lets go and steps back, hands raised in surrender. “Okay, sorry, sorry, I know that was overbearing, and I shouldn’t have touched you without permission. But you need to stop drinking, because you’re gonna wanna start saving money and I know those shots aren’t cheap.”

“You’re sorry for touching me, but not for saying all that crap?”

The stranger smirks. “Oh no, not at all. You may not appreciate it right now but that’s the truth and you need to accept that.”

“Fuck off,” Kuroo tries again, but even he can tell his vehemence has considerably gone down. He supposed the stranger did have a point. Moping wasn’t getting him anywhere but it certainly was putting a dent in his bank account.

The stranger just laughs again. “Okay, now let's dance.” 

Kuroo rolls his eyes. “I told you no, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but that was before we became friends.”

“When, pray tell, did we become friends?”

The man leans back and folds his arms, and Kuroo’s eyes quickly flick to and away from his bulging biceps. “You poured your heart out to me and I gave you solid advice, and then we had our first argument and resolved it too. I’d say we’re pretty solid friends, at this point.”

“You don’t even know my name.”

“Oh, good point. What’s your name? Mine’s Bokuto Koutaro.”

“I’m not telling you.”

The dude honest to god pouts like a giant child.

“Come on, man. You say you won’t dance with me, and then you say you’re not my friend, and now you won’t even tell me your name.”

Kuroo smirks and shrugs. “Sucks to be you, huh.”

Bokuto snorts. “Not as much as it sucks to be you, though.”

Kuroo nearly wheezes. “You take that back!”

Bokuto dissolves into laughter, doubling over and pressing his forehead to Kuroo’s shoulder as he guffaws like a fucking nutcase. The citrusy smell tickles his nose again and Kuroo tries to remember if he’s ever met anyone as strange and comes up empty.

When Bokuto straightens up, there’s something softer about him, his smile more subdued but still warm and sincere. “Come dance with me. It’ll be fun, and it’ll help you take your mind off things.”

Kuroo squints at him. The blue-pink lights from the bar do flattering things to his cheekbones and jawline. And Kuroo, despite everything, has always been a sucker for a pretty face.

“I’m not really the dancing type.”

“I’ll show you. Come on, it’s not like anyone's watching. Everyone is hammered and just out to have a good time. I promise I won’t laugh no matter how bad you are.” He holds a hand out for Kuroo to take, grinning bright and easy. In a way it’s comforting.

He takes it, and Bokuto’s smile shines brighter than the flickering lasers.

“My name’s Kuroo,” he says, as Bokuto drags him onto the dance floor.

“Nice to meetcha, Kuroo. Now let's paaar-taaayyy!”

Kuroo laughs and follows in Bokuto’s wake as he cuts through the crowd with his broad shoulders as easily as a hot knife through butter. He pulls Kuroo into him with a hand on the small of his back, and just kind of sways in time to the upbeat tempo of whatever is playing. It's catchy, and Kuroo finds himself moving to the beat as well, even if his body isn’t as smooth as Bokuto’s.

“There we go,” Bokuto laughs, looking into Kuroo’s eyes like it’s not a big deal at all to dance so intimately with a person he met a bare handful of moments ago.

Maybe to him, it wasn’t.

“You just wanted to put your hands on me, didn’t you? Take my mind off things, my ass.”

“No! I only had pure intentions in asking you to dance. Getting to touch you was just a nice bonus. You’re really hot!”

Despite the fact that they’re literally speaking directly into each others’ ears they still need to speak at a half-yell. Kuroo tries his best to maintain a respectable distance, but Bokuto doesn’t bother or doesn’t care that his lips brush the shell of Kuroo’s ear with every word he speaks.

Kuroo thinks that’s why his body is burning up, and not because he’d called him hot.

“How come you’re so flirty even when you know I’m not into men?”

“I’ll stop if it creeps you out.”

Kuroo takes stock of how they’re dancing--apart from Bokuto’s hand on his back, and despite their proximity, they’re not touching anywhere else.

If he tells Bokuto the truth, will they touch in more places, he wonders.

“I _am_  into guys,” he says, this time letting his lips graze Bokuto’s ear--payback, and an invitation.

The “Oh” that slips out of Bokuto’s mouth puffs against his earlobe.

Kuroo doesn’t say anything when Bokuto’s other hand comes into play as well, settling right next to the hand that’s already at the small of his back, pulling him closer into Bokuto’s body till their chests are bumping with each move they make.

The song switches into something smoother but still uptempo, and Kuroo finally lets his hands settle on Bokuto’s biceps. Bokuto flexes them for him and he laughs, husky and pleased right into the juncture of his jaw and neck.

“That’s so sexy.” Bokuto nuzzles his jaw and neck, and Kuroo tilts his head for him obligingly. They’re surrounded by people and yet it feels like they’re isolated, in a little bubble held in place with the steady, rhythmic pounding of the bassline. Bokuto pulls back to look at him, his face illuminated by a rainbow of strobe lights and flickering lasers, golden gaze intent and steady, studying.

Kuroo quirks an eyebrow at him, and Bokuto smirks. He looks good in the darkness of the cub, mysterious and sexy with how the fake fog hangs around his head and the light dances across the tops of his shoulders. His hands are broad and hot on Kuroo's back, almost burning him through his shirt. The dancefloor is packed with people grinding and bobbing along to the beat, and Kuroo's feeling himself now, getting into the groove of things and letting his body flow looser. He feels bold enough to raise his arms and roll his shoulders, raking his hands through his hair and smiling to himself with his eyes closed at how good it feels.

"Hey hey hey! The party animal's appearing!"

Kuroo's instinctual move is to stop moving out of embarrassment but Bokuto laughs and mirrors Kuroo, raising his arms too, biting the corner of his lower lip and tossing him a playful wink.

Kuroo licks his own lips in response, lowering one of his hand to tug at the back of Bokuto's head. Bokuto drags him closer at that, and their pelvises grind together. 

They’re interrupted by a girl in a silver bikini top and short-shorts carrying buckets of… __something.__ Bokuto grins and takes his shirt off before eagerly dipping his hands into them, yelling thanks as he does. His fingers come away dripping yellow and blue, and he runs them over his chest all the way down to his rippling abs, and then smears the rest in messy patches on his biceps.

“What is that?” Kuroo asks the girl, who’s doing a good job of not dropping the buckets as the other patrons dunk their hands into them as well.

“Neon paint,” yells one of the girls who’s rubbing it all over her shoulders, and even if Kuroo had wanted to try some, he feels grossed out at the thought of how many sweaty fingers had been in the bucket already.

Bokuto snatches his wrist before they get separated by the steadily growing crowd, and Kuroo steps back into his embrace gratefully.

“What’s happening?” he asks (screams, much louder than he has been so far), noticing the club steadily becoming darker and darker.

If Bokuto responds, he doesn’t hear it, but a husky female voice rings through the club and sends goosebumps rippling through his skin.

Hands on his hips turn him around and pull him back into a solid chest, and Kuroo watches in astonishment as the blacklights turn on and everything and everyone glows neon.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, and his eyes fall closed when Bokuto nuzzles up his neck and jaw, his breath hot on his cheek. Kuroo raises his hands to push them into Bokuto’s hair, and Bokuto pulls him closer, holds him tighter, till Kuroo can feel his heartbeat against his back like his own, and the only thing he can hear is the steady, smooth voice of the singer.

“Kuroo,” Bokuto’s whisper makes a coil of heat pool in his gut, and when Bokuto noses his cheek, he turns his face to him. Their lips find each other easily even in the dark, and Kuroo’s breath shudders out of him through his nose at the first press of lips. What starts out hesitant and soft turns into something sure and carnal, their mouths slotting together like they’d done this a thousand times before.

When they finally pull apart, Kuroo turns to face Bokuto fully.

“Bokuto,” he says, pressing their foreheads together, eyes closed, catching his breath.

Bokuto’s hands come up to cup his cheeks, and Kuroo’s eyes snap open to see Bokuto’s eyes--now a shiny and dark, nearly bronze--regarding him with something Kuroo can’t even begin to describe.

Bokuto’s thumbs stroke his cheeks gently. There’s splotches of neon paint on his face and hair, and the lines he’d painted on his chest are smudged from Kuroo rubbing on them, and he looks like a neon deity, debauched and pulled down from party heaven. Kuroo doesn’t remember the last time he’s been so close to anyone, and being here with Bokuto now feels like a religious experience.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying till Bokuto’s thumbs rub his cheek again and leaves a wet smear in its wake.

“Kuroo,” Bokuto says again, and Kuroo blinks, watches Bokuto’s lips split into a wide grin that feels familiar and impossibly precious already. “Kuroo, want to go somewhere else?”

Kuroo grins back. "Let's do that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically I wanted to write a fic to Studio Killers songs and gratuitous neon aesthetics,,,,,  
> It was one way in my head but turned out quite different when I wrote it, so it feels to me like it just meandered without any point, but well, it is what it is.


	4. Hand in Hand (Day 4: Partners in crime)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _What's a few lies in the grand scheme of things? (continuation of Fantasy AU from Day 1)_
> 
> **Tags:** Fantasy AU, Demon! Bokuto, Professor! Kuroo, Lying for good reasons  
>  **Mood music, if you will:** Paul Anka- Put your head on my shoulder

Kuroo hummed softly to himself as he ground dried herbs for the healing potion he was working on, enjoying the peace and quiet that came with having the lab to himself. Just as he was carefully funneling the dried rosemary powder into the jar with the other components, the door burst open and in stumbled Bokuto, looking terrified.

“What did you do this time?” Kuroo rounded on him with a resigned sigh. He’d given up on getting mad at Bokuto somewhere around the second week of their cohabitation. The demon was too earnest, too adorable-- the most that Kuroo could muster up was a deep exasperation and a little bit of panic at the thought of something terrible happening.

“You know the box of supplies you wanted me to bring up here?” He fidgeted with the charmed necklace that hung around his neck, and Kuroo's brows furrowed.

“Yes?”

“I didn't know there was camphor in it. And I was carrying it close to my face, you see.”

“What's… what’s wrong with camphor?”

“Well. Demons are allergic to it.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“Yeah. So I didn't know, and I was carrying it, and then I breathed in some of the camphor smell because the box wasn’t sealed right I think, and it made me sneeze. And I sneezed so hard a little bit of fire came out my nose.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah, and the fire scorched the wall and the. The other box.”

“Oh Bokuto.”

“Yeah. It scorched he'd the other box and then all the cockroaches escaped.”

Kuroo just stared at him.

Bokuto flailed. “I'm so sorry! But I got really nervous and cockroaches creep me out so I just grabbed the boxes and ran here!”

“You-- Bokuto-- did you just let 50 cockroaches loose in the hallways of this building.”

“I… I may have?” He cringed, looking so harried Kuroo just wanted to pull him into his chest and never let go. “But I don't think anyone saw me though.”

Kuroo made an ‘oh not bad’ kind of expression. “That's good, at least.”

“I’m sorry--”

A knock sounded and Kuroo reflexively shoved Bokuto into one of the cupboards that he had emptied for the express purpose of shoving Bokuto into it, just as dean Yaku entered the room, looking very put upon.

“Do you know anything about the sudden cockroach infestation we seem to be having?” He asked, frowning up at him severely.

Kuroo heard distant screams in the background. Oh, those poor children. “I have no idea what you are talking about,” he said.

Yaku’s expression shifted into outright suspicion. “Where is that demon of yours?”

“Bokuto is out running errands and I haven't seen him since left around an hour ago,” he lied, barefaced and without shame.

Yaku didn’t look like he believed him. “And you’re sure he’s not involved in this?”

Kuroo smiles politely. “I’m very sure.”

Yaku gave him one last suspicious look before turning and leaving, presumably to deal with the cockroaches.

Kuroo waited a couple moments and then peeked out the door, looking both ways to make sure the coast was clear. Once it became apparent that Yaku wasn’t coming back, he opened the cupboard door and leaned against it with his arms crossed, looking at Bokuto sitting curled up on the floor.

“You didn't have to lie on my behalf,” he mumbled, hiding his face in his knees.

“I didn’t have to,” Kuroo shrugged in agreement. “But I wanted to. I don’t want you getting into any more trouble with the dean.”

“But what if he finds out?” Bokuto yelled, angrily untangling himself to stand straight. “Kuroo, people keep lying on my behalf! You and Yaku-sensei and Sawamura-sensei, and Lev too! I don’t want people to lie for me! But I especially don’t want _you_ to lie for me!”

“Bokuto,” Kuroo said, and reached out to clasp Bokuto’s wrist right where the rune was. “We have no choice but to lie. You realize if the authorities found out about you, they’re going to want to keep you locked up in a warded solitary confinement unit, no matter how peaceful or harmless you are, right?”

Bokuto nodded, deflating. Kuroo opened his arms to him and Bokuto stepped into them obediently, tucking his head under Kuroo’s chin even if he had to hunch a lot to fit.

Kuroo wrapped his arms around him, rubbing between where his wings would have been if he wasn’t wearing the special glamour charm Sawamura had prepared for him. “We don’t mind lying if it’s for a good reason, and keeping you here and out of what’s basically prison is a very good reason. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

Bokuto nodded again, and Kuroo could feel his fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt over his chest. He’d realized very quickly after meeting bokuto that he was very tactile in general but almost excessively so with Kuroo. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the fact that they were bound, or because Bokuto liked him or something like that-- it wasn’t wishful thinking at all, just curiosity, alright, he was just curious-- but Bokuto seemed to always be touching him, either holding onto the back of his jacket in the grocery store or hugging him from behind so he could peer over his shoulder as he cooked, or snuggling into his side when they watched cartoons after dinner.

“I’m sorry I’m being a bother.”

Kuroo barked out a surprised laugh. “You didn’t even _ask_ to be summoned! Stop making it sound like you did something wrong.” He squeezed Bokuto as tight as he could. “We’re in this together now, for better or for worse. I’ve got you, like I know you’ve got me.”

“I'd  _never_ let anything bad happen to you.” Bokuto's vehemence made Kuroo smile.

“I know.”

Bokuto pulled back to smile at him before his face fell. “Should I go help with the cockroach cleanup?”

“That would be a good thing to do, yes. But remember, you _just_ returned from running errands, okay?”

“Okay. Wait! What errands?”

“Just say you had to go back to feed Spot.”

Bokuto nodded brightly, then pecked him on the lips and backed away, his whole face red as he made a break for it.

 _That_ was one less thing to be curious about, Kuroo thought, touching his lips as he smiled to himself. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spot is a giant carnivorous plant that got summoned when Bokuto stood too close to a summoning meant for some Firecloves and his demonic aura influenced the ritual. Spot lives in a giant lime green and hot pink striped planter, and prefers chicken meat to beef.


	5. Midnight road (Day 5: Tattoo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Long drives late at night with the person you yearn for probably aren't too good for your health._
> 
>  
> 
>  **Tags:** Future fic, angst, arguments, long drives at night, hopeful ending  
>  **Mood music, if you will:** Foster The People- Sit next to me

Bokuto waited at the arrivals bay, rubbing at a spot on his ribs with one hand and jiggling his car keys with the other, hoping his fidgeting wasn’t annoying the other people waiting with him. He kept his eyes peeled, hoping he’d recognize Kuroo-- it had been almost 3 months since they’d last videochatted, and Kuroo didn’t like taking pictures of himself, so Bokuto hoped he hadn’t altered his appearance so much he was unrecognizable.

“Bokuto!”

Bokuto perked up at the call and whipped around to see where it came from, and saw Kuroo waving excitedly from behind a trolley piled with suitcases.

He whooped and ran straight for him, not caring at all if he was being too disruptive-- nothing else mattered to him except catching Kuroo up in a hug and squeezing him hard enough to knock the daylights out of him in retaliation for making Bokuto miss him so fucking much.

When he got to him, he caught him in a big hug and swung him around, and Kuroo laughed his bright hyena laugh, a sound Bokuto had missed  _ so much _ , a sound that made his chest constrict so hard he forgot his plan to squeeze him into a faint.

“Put me down, dumbass, we’re in the way.”

Bokuto blinked out of his stupor and let Kuroo go before stepping back and pretending like he’d not just been paralysed by feeling because of Kuroo’s laugh. He grinned at him and punched his shoulder. “Bro! Look at you, you know how to dress now!”

Kuroo laughed his comment off and rubbed the spot where Bokuto had punched him. “Yeah, well. Thanks for coming to pick me up.”

“Anything for you,” Bokuto said, wondering if Kuroo knew just  _ how much _ he meant that statement.

-

Bokuto had tried to lay off Kuroo for the first week he was back at least, but he’d ended up failing miserably-- he had sent no less than ten texts a day even when Kuroo didn’t reply to him, and had randomly turned up at his house once already. Kuroo’s mother had let him in because Kuroo was sleeping, telling him it was okay to wake him up because it was going to be dinner time soon, but all Bokuto had done was stare at Kuroo’s sleeping face like a creep and then leave with an excuse about Kuroo being difficult to wake and Bokuto needing to be somewhere else soon anyway.

As he laid awake in bed and recounted all the stupid, overexcited texts he’d sent to Kuroo, a familiar dull ache settled in between his ribs. He rubbed at the spot absently, fingers automatically tracing the outline of the small cat tattoo he’d gotten the year after Kuroo had moved to London for his PhD, at the University of Cambridge of all places. As if Bokuto needed any more confirmation about how smart Kuroo was, and how out of his league. 

He was so proud of Kuroo for being so damn smart, though. Bokuto hadn’t struggled with school too much but he always enjoyed physical labour more, had enjoyed actually going out and doing things and preferred learning through action instead of figuring out formulae and complicated sentences. He wasn’t being self-deprecating when he said he wasn’t smart; he was just stating a fact. The sky was blue, water was wet, and Bokuto wasn’t smart, not in the way Kuroo was, at least. 

He didn’t think he’d have much in common with Kuroo anymore, and even though Bokuto had years to come to terms with this realization, it still hurt.

He’d gotten the idea for the tattoo after one evening when it hurt too much to be alone and to miss someone so much it felt like he was having a knife shoved in between his ribs. He’d gotten himself to a tattoo studio the next day, figuring the pain of having ink etched into his outside with a needle would dull the pain in his insides. It had worked to an extent, but now he just had an indelible reminder of how much he missed Kuroo staring at him every time he looked in the mirror. It wasn’t like Bokuto was only pining for him though, he felt like that would have been something he could’ve gotten over. Kuroo was also his best friend and confidant, the person he turned to whenever he needed a warm hug, a patient ear, and practical but kind advice telling him to get his ass in gear.

Kuroo being so far away he couldn’t just hop into his car and go see him whenever he wanted was exhausting and sad and painful.

For a while after he got inked, whenever the pain came he was able to convince himself it was just the tattoo. But then he’d discovered rubbing at the tattoo made him feel marginally better, like he was rubbing a comforting blanket, or something like that. It didn’t really make much sense how it worked, but it worked, and Bokuto was grateful for the small mercy.

It had become habitual at this point to rub the spot whenever anything bothered him.

He texted Kuroo again. “hey bro wanna go out sumwher? M in the mood for a long drive”

Kuroo texted him back in five minutes. “Bokuto it’s 11 pm” “where would we even go”

He grinned. It always made him grin when Kuroo replied to his texts. “Nowhere. Everywhere. We just gotta get in the car ;D”

He waited for a whole minute, idly kicking his legs back and forth.

Finally, a new message popped up. “That works I guess. Come get me. Bring pain meds.”

Bokuto punched the air in victory. “sure thing! see ya in 5 :D”

-

When Bokuto pulled up in front of Kuroo’s house, Kuroo was already waiting for him out front, standing slouched with his hands jammed into his hoodie pockets. Bokuto gave him a bright grin when he settled in.

“Here’s some ibuprofen,” he said, retrieving the pill bottle from the cup holder along with a bottle of water. “If it hurts real bad you don’t have to come with me, you know.”

Kuroo snorted, popping two pills in his mouth and chasing them with a hearty swig of water. “Yeah it’s too late for that. But it’s okay, it’s nothing some meds won’t help.”

“Okay then. Remember your seatbelt.” He smiled at Kuroo and fiddled with the audio system till he found something chill with a nice beat.

“Where are we going?,” Kuroo asked with an amused quirk of his eyebrow, pulling on the seatbelt and sitting back. “What counts for everywhere, and what’s nowhere?”

“I was just thinking we could hit one of the highways, keep going, see if we can find food somewhere and then turn back around?”

“Seems kinda pointless.” Kuroo fidgeted with his seat till it was pushed all the way back and he had space to cross his legs. It wasn’t much space, but he managed after some struggle.

Bokuto laughed at him. “It’s a long drive for the sake of a long drive, not much of a point to it, really. I just like long car rides. They’re relaxing.”

Kuroo hummed, and Bokuto hummed back. It was a nice night, with no clouds in the sky and the moon bright and full on Kuroo’s side of the road. The stars weren’t very visible, but the sky was a lovely deep blue-green, and Bokuto loved it, and loved that he got to enjoy it with Kuroo after so long.

When they left the city limits and started driving through large swathes of trees and grassland, Bokuto rolled down his window a bit to enjoy the cool evening breeze. Kuroo cranked his down too, and while it made for a slightly noisier ride, it was refreshing to breathe in the crisp night air, laden with the scent of growing things and possibilities.

“It’s a nice night,” Kuroo murmured, looking at Bokuto with a small smile. Bokuto looked at him for a bare moment before quickly turning back to the road.

“It is. Makes you want to be introspective, almost.”

Kuroo chuckled. “I didn’t know you knew that word.”

“Oh fuck off.” Bokuto laughed easily, feeling the tension drain from his shoulders. “Tell me things, Kuroo.”

“What sort of things?” Kuroo asked, rifling in the glove compartment.

“Do you still get curious about things kept in drawers?”

Kuroo froze in the middle of digging through manuals and other pieces of paper. “Look, it’s not-- I don’t-- I just want to see what’s inside, alright?”

Bokuto laughed harder, rubbing moisture out of his eyes before it got too difficult to see the road. “I wasn’t implying it was a bad thing,” he wheezed out.

Kuroo slammed the latch closed and sat back, arms crossed. “Yeah, yeah.”

The ride was quiet after that, and Bokuto didn’t mind at all. All he really wanted was to spend some time with Kuroo, and he was getting that in spades. It was peaceful and companionable, and it was almost like they were on a date.

But despite the fact that it wasn’t a date, Bokuto still loved every minute of it.

-

After two hours of flying through the open road and singing along to old nineties songs, Bokuto decided it was about time to head back. He turned his location on and typed in Kuroo’s address as his destination.

“Do you think we can get some coffee or something?” Kuroo asked, stretching his arms above his head.

Bokuto admired the long lines of his body out of the side of his eye. “Sure, let me see if there’s anything nearby.”

The nearest 24-hour service station was another twenty minutes away so they headed there. There was no one else around, so they got their vending machine coffees quickly, and playfully hip-checked each other as they walked to the car.

Kuroo said something especially ridiculous and Bokuto laughed so hard he spilled coffee on himself, and he yelped in pain as he grabbed his wet shirt and held it away from him. Kuroo laughed at Bokuto first before he rubbed at Bokuto’s arm consolingly. He set his coffee down on the roof of the car and ran back into the shop, emerging with a bottle of iced water just as Bokuto was digging around in his back seat for the spare shirt that was usually there.

“Step into the light, Bokuto. Let me see if you burned yourself.” Kuroo grabbed a small bunch of napkins from the box on Bokuto’s back seat and poured the water on those before beckoning to him.

Bokuto went easily, taking his shirt off without being asked.

Kuroo’s eyes trailed from his chest to his stomach, where the coffee had burned him, to a spot just off to the side under his left pectoral. “Bokuto, I didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

Bokuto panicked and automatically crossed his arms in front of himself, knowing he was doing a terrible job at playing it cool. “Oh, yeah.”

“What is it a tattoo of?” Kuroo gave him an inscrutable look as he gently wiped Bokuto’s stomach.

“Um,” Bokuto mumbled.

Kuroo moved his arms out of the way. Or rather, Kuroo patted his forearm and Bokuto reluctantly unfolded his arms, letting them hang limply at his sides.

“Is that… a black cat… with a number one next to it?” Kuroo asked, looking down at the tattoo on Bokuto’s skin before looking up into his face. He looked like he already knew the answer though, and like he didn’t particularly appreciate it.

“Yeah.” Bokuto looked away and pulled the new shirt on, hiding the tattoo for good. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously not nothing if you got it permanently marked on your damn skin, Bokuto.”

Bokuto shied away from the iron in Kuroo’s tone. “It’s nothing, Kuroo. Leave it alone.”

“No.”

They squared off, Kuroo placid and sharp as ice, Bokuto with his jaw clenched in tension.

“Kuroo, please.” He sighed, shoulders slumping as he leaned back against the car. “It’s just… it’s just something I got to remember you by.”

“To remember me by?” Kuroo frowned. “Jeez Bokuto, I’m not dead yet.”

“It felt like you were, when you left me behind.”

Kuroo looked like he’d be slapped. “What the fuck?”

Bokuto realised what he’d said a moment too late. But now that his real feelings were out, he figured he might as well get everything over with. “I’m sorry. I know you had to leave, but it still hurt.”

“I asked you,” Kuroo said, looking more hurt than anything. “I asked you before I left.”

“How could I have asked you to stay, Kuroo?” Bokuto raked both hands through his hair. “You got accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the  _ world _ , what the hell was I supposed to do after that? Tell you to stay here? Tell you to give it up for me?”

“You made it seem like you were happy to get away from me!” Kuroo hissed, getting in his face. Bokuto thought he saw the glint of tears in his eyes and felt like scum. “I loved you! I wanted to make it work! You refused!”

“Long distance relationships are hard, Kuroo.” Bokuto hated how wrecked he sounded, how wrecked he felt. All he wanted to do was have a good evening with Kuroo, get to know him again after having been apart for four years. He hated how he couldn’t get anything right when it came to Kuroo, hated that he’d asked him out with the promise of a relaxing time only for it to devolve into yelling and arguments. He was tired.

He was so tired.

“I don’t want to argue anymore, Tetsurou,” he said, soft and defeated as he turned to walk to the driver’s side. “I’m sorry. I’ll just take you home, and we can forget this ever happened, or something.”

Kuroo laughed, and it was the most joyless thing Bokuto had ever heard. 

“Even after all these years, you never want to fight for me.”

Bokuto stopped in his tracks.

“Why does it feel like I’m the only one who actually wanted us to be together, Koutaro?” Kuroo sounded about as wrecked as Bokuto felt. “I wanted to make a long distance relationship work. I would have tried my best, done whatever it took. Call everyday, skype every week, whatever. It would have been difficult, but I’d have done it.  _ You _ told me that. It’s just difficult, not impossible. Remember? You said that when you moved prefectures to attend college, didn’t you? And we made it work for those three years, didn’t we?

“So imagine my surprise when I say I want to keep going, even when I was moving across the damn world, when I would have liked to have my boyfriend supporting me when I was moving to a whole new country where I knew  _ no one _ , my boyfriend says ‘oh that’s fantastic Tetsu, I guess this is the end huh!’ like he couldn’t wait for me to just be gone already.”

Bokuto whirled around, trembling with anger, indignation, regret, he didn’t know which. “How dare you!” He yelled, and his voice cracked. He kept going. “You don’t know how difficult it was! You were so confident you could do the long distance thing because you think we made it work in college, but you didn’t know what it was like for me! You had so many things going on in undergrad you barely had  _ any _ time for me! I had to fight for every moment I got! How do you think it made me feel, each time you showed up to a date sleep deprived and wrung out, bailing early because you had to get to an online seminar, or when you had to cancel because of some deadline or the other!”

“Well at least I tried to make it work!”

“Trying doesn’t matter!” Bokuto sank down to the ground, put his face in his hands and screamed, a wordless cry of frustration. “Trying doesn’t matter when it’s not doing any good, Tetsu.” He inhaled a shuddery breath and wiped his nose on his collar, feeling empty like when Kuroo had told him he was going to move to London, wasn’t that great, Bokuto, it’d be difficult but they could make it work, and Bokuto had needed to say No.

He heard Kuroo take a ragged breath. “If it was so bad, why did you never tell me?”

Bokuto shrugged, staring listlessly at his knees as one hand automatically moved to rub at his tattoo. It didn’t help, but he kept pressing into it. “You were stressed as it was, I didn’t want to add to it.”

“You can’t just keep things from me and then get mad at me for not knowing better, Bokuto.” Kuroo’s tone was icy and stung like hailstones. “I’m not a mind reader. All this time I thought we were at least happy in undergrad but turns out I was the only one who thought that as well.”

“It wasn’t all my fault. I wanted to make it work too. You can’t put all the blame on me.”

“How can you shift blame to me when I didn’t even know I was doing something wrong?!” Kuroo raised his voice for the first time that evening, and Bokuto curled further into himself. 

“I want to go home,” Bokuto mumbled. He didn’t know if Kuroo heard because there wasn’t any response. “I want to go home,” he repeated, clutching at his ribs.

There was silence, and then footsteps, and a car door slamming. 

It took him a moment but he rubbed his eyes and stood up, and blinked when he saw Kuroo in the driver’s seat, glaring out the window.

He quietly went over to the passenger seat and settled in, pulling the seatbelt on. Kuroo started the car without a word, but didn’t shift out of neutral.

“You should have told me you were unhappy.” He grit his teeth, staring straight ahead. “You should have told me if you were miserable.”

Bokuto shrugged again. “I didn’t--”

“You’re  _ important _ Bokuto!” Kuroo turned to look him in the eyes, and Bokuto felt cornered, too exposed, too raw. He flicked his eyes away to the little neon lights of his speedometer instead. “I only ever wanted to make you happy. Don’t you think I deserved to know? I could have done  _ something _ . Cancel a club, or delegate something. How am I supposed to know things when you don’t  _ tell _ me?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not-- I don’t want an apology, damnit.” 

Bokuto didn’t know what Kuroo  _ did _ want. Bokuto though, Bokuto just wanted Kuroo back, without the yelling and the accusations and the torn up look in his eyes like Bokuto had betrayed him somehow. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t know what to say.”

Kuroo sighed and put his head on the steering wheel. After what seemed like eternity, he straightened again and finally shifted the car out of park. 

The drive back was fraught with a heavy and oppressive silence, and Bokuto stared through half-lidded eyes at the passing trees and stars, feeling all the colour leaching out his pleasant night time scenery.

The car slowed, pulled over to the side of the road, and stopped.

“I’m sorry.”

Bokuto turned to look at Kuroo, who was staring at his hands on the steering wheel. 

“We’ve made…  _ such _ a fucking mess,” he continued, chuckling softly. “I’m so sorry I let you down, Koutaro.”

“You didn’t-- You don’t have to apologize!” Bokuto said, already feeling the sting of tears in his eyes. “You didn’t know-- It wasn’t your fault! I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t think… I know I’m high maintenance, asking for more than what you were giving me just felt… I just didn’t feel like I deserved it.” The tears spilled over and he hid his face in his hands again. “I didn’t want to ask for too much. You were trying your best for me, Tetsu, I couldn’t ask for anything more!”

“Koutaro I’d do _ anything _ for you,” Kuroo closed a hand around one of his wrists and tugged gently, so Bokuto lowered his hands. The dull lights glinted off a trail of wetness on Kuroo’s cheek, and he looked so sad. “I loved you. I just. I just wish you’d told me. I can’t stand it. How long was I thinking that things were okay? How long were you unhappy?” 

“I’m sorry!” Bokuto sobbed, voice coming out thick and nasally. Sorry for not saying anything, sorry for lying by omission, sorry for making Kuroo feel like things were his fault, when all along Bokuto had been the one to blame. “I’m sorry, Tetsu!”

Kuroo pulled him closer, and Bokuto moved automatically, the thought of resisting not crossing his mind at all. Kuroo put his arms around his shoulders and Bokuto’s hands shot out to clutch at his back.

“Dumbass,” Kuroo murmured into his hair, squeezing him close. “You’re such a dumbass.”

“I know.” Bokuto hiccuped. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m a dumbass too,” Kuro sniffled. “So it’s okay.”

“You are,” Bokuto agreed, and yelped when Kuroo poked his side with one finger.

They stayed quiet after, but this time it felt better, peaceful, like the calm after a storm.

“Tetsu?” Bokuto mumbled, burrowing his face into Kuroo’s neck.

“Mm?”

“I missed you a lot, when you were in London. It hurt every day.”

“I missed you too. It was really rough the first few months when you didn’t talk to me.”

Bokuto flexed his fingers in Kuroo’s shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. It’s in the past now.”

Bokuto swallowed. Kuroo was always so kind. He didn’t think he deserved it, but he was so, so grateful. “Will you be going away again?” 

He felt Kuroo shake his head. “No. I’m here for good.”

“Will you--” He swallowed, cleared his throat, and swallowed again for good measure. “Do you think… do you want me still?”

Kuroo exhaled, long and unsteady. But his hand trailed up Bokuto’s neck to bury itself in his hair, and Bokuto’s breath hitched.

“If you’ll let me have you? Then the answer will always be yes.”

Bokuto nodded, pressing his forehead into Kuroo’s clavicle. “I’ll do better, this time around.”

“I know you will.” For the first time in years, Bokuto felt Kuroo’s lips in his hair, and his heart stuttered. “I promise I’ll do better too.”

“You think we can still make it work, after… after everything?”

Kuroo pulled back and they looked into each other’s eyes, tear stained and red and puffy. Bokuto thought Kuroo was the most gorgeous person in the world, on the inside and the outside, far superior to anything or anyone he’d ever known. Kuroo cupped his face with his gentle, long fingered hands and pressed their foreheads together. The pain in his ribs flared bright before quieting completely, like the knife had been removed and he could breathe right again.

“It’ll be difficult,” Kuroo said softly, lips tugging into a small but confident smile. “But we’ll get there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was difficult and frustrating to write and I struggled with it a lot. The flow of the argument may make no sense and the resolution (it's not really a resolution, just the beginning of one) may seem too quick, but I do believe that the both of them are the type to let bygones be bygones, learn from their mistakes, and start fresh. They do have a lot of work to do though, but trying to include that in this fic (which was meant to be under 1.5K words but now stands at 3.8K) would have made it even longer, and I didn't have the time to write that. Sorry for the unexpected angst (I wasn't expecting it either tbh). I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. Sorry if you didn't.


	6. Words in action (Day 7: The ways you say "I love you")

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Bokuto is an affectionate creature and has many, _many_ ways in which he says "I love you"._
> 
> **Tags:** Future fic, so sappy, very corny, absolutely cheesy  
>  **Mood music, if you will:** Hozier- Wasteland, baby!

Kuroo loved Bokuto and Bokuto loved Kuroo. This was a fact of life.

They'd met in high school, and had a friendly rivalry, but didn't fall in love till their reunion years later, when Bokuto rear-ended Kuroo’s shiny new Toyota with his old Jeep.

Bokuto had spent quite a few evenings in the chair beside Kuroo's hospital bed, and later at his house, while Kuroo recovered from a concussion and a cracked collarbone, paying penance in the form of snacks and company. Kuroo had milked him for all he was worth, and when he finally had his casts and braces removed, asked Bokuto out on a date.

Bokuto had accepted, of course.

It's been two years since, and their friends continue to marvel that they haven't killed each other yet, accidentally or on purpose.

But it's not really hard to see how in love they are.

Bokuto is an affectionate creature, so much so he feels his urge to proclaim his affection multiple times a day in multiple ways.

He tries his best to cook Kuroo’s favourite meals, even if cooking isn't his strong suit and he ends up over-salting everything.

He always reminds Kuroo to take his glasses with him when he leaves the house, because despite only being able to see vague blurry forms of anything beyond 20 feet, Kuroo _always_ forgets the fact that he has to actually pick up and wear his glasses when he takes them off for whatever reason. Most of the times the reason is that he took them off to make out with Bokuto, but the sentiment stands.

He always kisses Kuroo wholeheartedly and sincerely. Doesn’t matter what kind of kiss it is, doesn’t matter if it’s soft and tender or hard and raunchy, if it’s seeking reassurance or seeking to reassure, Bokuto’s kisses are always warm and passionate and _pure_. The press of his lips to Kuroo’s skin is _therapeutic_ , almost, and it sounds silly, but each time Kuroo comes home tired and wrung out and a single kiss rejuvenates him like a warm shower, Kuroo is more and more convinced it’s the truth.  

He plays with Kuroo’s hair, now no longer the floppy mess it was in high school but a more ‘respectable’ shorter style. Kuroo misses the length, feels like he’s too exposed with his hair short and pushed back like this, his unending insecurity about the narrowness of his eyes or the pointyness of his nose or the one hundred other things he finds odd about himself pushed right up front and center for the world to see. But when Bokuto plays with his hair, either standing behind him and toweling his hair dry, or in bed cuddling, or on the sofa watching TV, says how soft it is and how much he loves seeing more of Kuroo’s face now, it soothes his heart and makes him think maybe the hairstyle is not so bad after all.

He actually prints out the photographs they take, and puts them all over the house, in cheap convenience store frames and vintage thrift shop ones, hung or propped up on any surface he deems sufficient. Polaroids of vacations-- on the beach, at the mountains, in an onsen-- adorn all three sides of their fridge, held in place with a collection of random fruit, animal and souvenir magnets. He makes a ceremony of it: each time they go out somewhere he takes dozens of pictures, makes Kuroo sit with him, pick out their favourite one together, get it printed, find a frame for it, a spot to to put it on. Kuroo had suggested getting a digital frame, so they would be able to save on some space, and while Bokuto agreed, he still preferred prints, shyly admitting that he liked seeing their life together spread out like this, all at once, because this was how it was like in his head, one hundred memories splashed across the open sky, a constant reminder that they were together and they loved each other.

He buys Kuroo’s favourite pastry from the corner bakery for breakfast every Sunday that Kuroo is home, a sugared scone toasted and buttered, warm and decadent, like the kiss he gives him when he hands it over. Kuroo has long ago given up trying to maintain any sort of exercise regimen, but Bokuto is religious about his morning runs, and while Kuroo would normally complain about being woken up in the wee hours of the morning on a weekend, he doesn’t, not only because Bokuto makes up for it with breakfast in bed, but also post-run Bokuto means hot, sweaty, _glowing_ Bokuto in joggers and a ratty tanktop, and, well. _Well._

He is nothing but supportive of Kuroo’s career even when it takes him all over the country, sometimes across the continent, working as a business consultant. He’s away at least a week every month, and while Kuroo hadn’t been bothered by it before, it bothers him greatly now. It’s nothing as altruistic as being worried about Bokuto left alone in their house, fending for himself and having to sleep alone in their bed that’s too big for just one person. It’s because Kuroo misses him so fucking much, it’s a physical presence dead center in his chest. It’s not so bad when he’s only gone for 3-4 days at a time, but when he has to stay away for a week or more? It _hurts_. He misses Bokuto’s smile and energy and pouting and huffiness, misses his dumb dad jokes and bird puns, misses the good morning and goodnight kisses, the goodbye and welcome home kisses, the salty miso soup and the amazing milk tea. When Kuroo is on the phone at midnight, frustrated about impossible clients and impossible deadlines, it’s Bokuto that reminds him how much he loves his job, how much he loves solving problems and helping people, even if people were being dicks. It’s Bokuto that tells him silly anecdotes about his elementary school class to distract him, soothes the anxiety welling in his chest with jokes and teasing and promises of cuddles and visits to the cat cafe.

He doesn't make promises lightly, and when he promises forever and always, Kuroo knows that he really does mean forever, he really does mean _always_. The proof of that rests solid and golden on his ring finger, a simple, elegant band with their first names inscribed on the inside, with a small heart in between elegantly formed kanji. Even if Kuroo forgets, or if Bokuto isn’t there to remind him, the band will always tell him those three words in Bokuto's stead,

"I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that brings us to the end of BoKuroo week 2k19!  
> [Here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3xcEvxY7DdmossZEmdGFfI) is a playlist of the songs listed in chapter order. I cheated and put 2 songs for day 3.  
> Thank you for reading! A comment to tell me how you feel isn't necessary but would be very appreciated! ^_^

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 6 moved to its own fic! 18+ only: [Cotton Candy Hour ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19980409) for some soft PWP  
> Find me yelling about BoKuroo on Twitter @ItsAiryBro


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